Poems, where everyone can leave their scribbles, haiku’s, poetry, etc.

[Lover]

I'm happy you love it honey. You're welcome  :-*

[islandsun]

@ Lover very nice handsome ! > smile

[Brandybee]

Big sigh,  Lover,  if you can write that in English  and make me swoon…  my god its a good job I don't understand German… well except Kugleshreiber..  lol …  and you don't have a cowboy hat, !!!

Marilyn, you'd have some serious competition on your hands girl … :-*

Wunderbar   

[ItsAmy123]

Awwee Lover! Such a beautiful poem *Fans Self*
You guys are so cute Ya'll are definitely meant to be together  :-*

“I am not a poet and writing is hard.
But one thing I promise, my words come from heart.”
*Wipes Tear* 

[Marilyn]

Big sigh,   Lover,  if you can write that in English  and make me swoon…  my god its a good job I don't understand German… well except Kugleshreiber..  lol …  and you don't have a cowboy hat, !!!

Marilyn, you'd have some serious competition on your hands girl … :-*

Wunderbar   

  :-*

[islandsun]

@ Lover grin and bare it friend girls after you !  I`m so laffin !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ohhhhh and girls he in real is very handsome , wink , Lover no need to thank me > hehehehehee

Smile friend ! 

[Anonymous]

I think some of few would enjoy reading this poem considering the timing:

New Year's Morning
by Helen Hunt Jackson (1892)

Only a night from old to new!
Only a night, and so much wrought!
The Old Year’s heart all weary grew,
But said: “The New Year rest has brought.”
The Old Year’s hopes its heart laid down,
As in a grave; but trusting, said:
“The blossoms of the New Year’s crown
Bloom from the ashes of the dead.”
The Old Year’s heart was full of greed;
With selfishness it longed and ached,
And cried: “I have not half I need.
My thirst is bitter and unslaked.
But to the New Year’s generous hand
All gifts in plenty shall return;
True love it shall understand;
By all my failures it shall learn.
I have been reckless; it shall be
Quiet and calm and pure of life.
I was a slave; it shall go free,
And find sweet peace where I leave strife.”

Only a night from old to new!
Never a night such changes brought.
The Old Year had its work to do;
No New Year miracles are wrought.
Always a night from old to new!
Night and the healing balm of sleep!
Each morn is New Year’s morn come true,
Morn of a festival to keep.
All nights are sacred nights to make
Confession and resolve and prayer;
All days are sacred days to wake
New gladness in the sunny air.
Only a night from old to new;
Only a sleep from night to morn.
The new is but the old come true;
Each sunrise sees a new year born.

[FoxyRoxxy]

Valentine Treasures

Valentine treasures are people who
have often crossed your mind,
family, friends and others, too,
who in your life have shined

the warmth of love or a spark of light
that makes you remember them;
no matter how long since you've actually met,
each one is a luminous gem,

who gleams and glows in your memory,
bringing special pleasures,
and that's why this Valentine comes to you:
You're one of those sparkling treasures!

– Joanna Fuchs –

[Lover]

Valentine Smile

On Valentine's Day we think of those
Who make our lives worthwhile,
Those gracious, friendly people who
We think of with a smile.

I am fortunate to know you,
That's why I want to say,
To a rare and special person:
Happy Valentine's Day!

By Joanna Fuchs

[FoxyRoxxy]

Love Again

We have been through so much,
And time just seems to fly.
Yet I can happily still smile,
And say that you are mine.
In the time that we had met,
I had a broken heart.
I was a single mother of one,
That had been pushed and pulled apart.
I never though in my wildest dreams,
That I could love again.
You smiled at me just one time,
Then my heart started to mend.

You took away all my fears,
You threw them to the past.
You gave me hope and inspiration,
You showed me love could last.
The way you love me.
Just makes me want to cry.
I love the way you sing to me,
And that sparkle in your eyes.
You are the only one I want,
So hold me through the night.

[FoxyRoxxy]

precious one—

forgive me for not writing sooner
but know that you're burn
fills my heart and thoughts of you
sojourn on the bed of my mind.
i share this with you so that you
won't think that i don't miss you
for i miss inscribing the flesh of
my contemplations the way i do
during our inevitable dream
when we're afforded seclusion and
i kiss you with my words
savoring your honeyed sighs
giving mood to the bliss of you
taking me to the infinite rippling
when pleas brim over where i'm
fated to thrust into the crimson light
where swelling up sting manifests
scribing the chapter of us scrolling
page by page taking and giving
in selfish confluence our brash intent

©2014 jaoa

[Brandybee]

Macavity: The Mystery Cat

[img]http://ap-pics.gotpoem.com/ap-pics/item/8453/751.jpg?350×242[/img]

Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw—
For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime—Macavity's not there!

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime—Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air—
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!

Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square—
But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!

He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's
And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!

And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty's gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair—
But it's useless to investigate—Macavity's not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
It must have been Macavity!'—but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumb;
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
At whatever time the deed took place—MACAVITY WASN'T THERE !
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!

T S Eliot,

[FoxyRoxxy]

   
     RIDE

I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer.
At night I fell asleep with visions of myself, dancing and laughing and crying with them.
Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times.
I was a singer – not a very popular one,
I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.
But I didn't really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is.
When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I'd been living, they asked me why – but there's no use in talking to people who have home.
They have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people – for home to be wherever you lay your head.
I was always an unusual girl.
My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean…
And if I said I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying…
Because I was born to be the other woman.
Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone.
Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn't even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

I've been out on that open road
You can be my full time daddy,
White and gold
Singing blues has been getting old
You can be my full time baby,
Hot or cold

Don't break me down
I've been travelin' too long
I've been trying too hard
With one pretty song

I hear the birds on the summer breeze,
I drive fast, I am alone in the night
Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble,
but I, I've got a war in my mind
So, I just ride, just ride,
I just ride, just ride

Dying young and I'm playing hard
That's the way my father made his life an art
Drink all day and we talk 'til dark
That's the way the road dogs do it – ride 'til dark.

Don't leave me now
Don't say good bye
Don't turn around
Leave me high and dry

I hear the birds on the summer breeze,
I drive fast, I am alone in the night
Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble,
but I, I've got a war in my mind
I just ride, just ride,
I just ride, just ride

I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy
I'm tired of driving 'til I see stars in my eyes
It's all I've got to keep myself sane, baby
So I just ride, I just ride

I hear the birds on the summer breeze,
I drive fast, I am alone in the night
Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble,
but I, I've got a war in my mind
I just ride, just ride,
I just ride, I just ride

Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people, and finally I did on the open road.
We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore, except to make our lives into a work of art.
Live fast. Die young. Be wild. And have fun.
I believe in the country America used to be.
I believe in the person I want to become.
I believe in the freedom of the open road.
And my motto is the same as ever:
“I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I’m at war with myself I ride, I just ride.”
Who are you?
Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?
I have. I am fucking crazy.
But I am free.

        LANA DEL REY

[FoxyRoxxy]

A Woman Of Strength

A woman of strength,
Has courage to face the day,
And the confidence,
To handle whatever comes her way.
A woman of strength,
Has so much love to give,
And more compassion,
It gives her a reason to live.
A woman of strength,
Can face trouble with more hope,
Face adversity,
Always finding the strength to cope.
A woman of strength,
Can take the bad with the good,
And learn from it all,
With a sense of pride that’s understood.
A woman of strength,
Can conduct herself with grace,
Hold her head up high,
And dignity always has its place.
A woman of strength,
Can face almost anything,
And can look forward,
To what the future will possibly bring 

                                                      Jan Brooks

[FoxyRoxxy]

You Are My…

You are my conscience,
You are my reality,
I can't escape,
Because you always see.

You are my courage,
You are my true fears,
You see it all,
My smiles and all my tears.

You are my beauty,
You are my ugliness,
Nothing to hide,
And nothing to confess.

You are my true love,
You are my heart break,
You feel it too,
There isn't any mistake.

You are my deep thoughts,
You are my strong voice,
With your guidance,
I can make the right choice.

You are my falseness,
You are my true blue,
Look in the mirror,
You are me and I am you!

                                              Jan Brooks

[Author]

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